Randal awoke to a bucket of frigid water to the face, and ice shards flew into his eyes and mouth. Spitting and shaking from the frosty water, Randal's pewter teeth chattered, and he was so freezing that his internal heating systems went offline. "Was the ice cold water completely and logically necessary?? Why are you wearing those preposterous outfits?" inquired Randal, alarmed, holding his shaking metal frame to conserve warmth.

Shane and Wayne were dressed in Eskimo clothing. Humongous parkas with fur lined hoods, thick mittens, and tall rubber boots kept them toasty and warm. "We had to go get some water from the Arctic Ocean," Wayne answered, sheepishly, "because no other water was cold enough. That's why we rented this toboggan and pack of Alaskan snow hounds." Sure enough, they both sat on a sled, where a dozen dogs with harnesses were attached to the front with long threads of tough rope. "I wasn't too convinced that you were even alive, broski. Shane thought you were dead!"

"I did think you were dead." Shane confirmed.

Randal could barely balance himself with his two hands to be able to get back up on his feet. He was brittle and weak from the past few hours of debauchery. Randal, now conscious, abruptly remembered that his parents were stopping by to visit with him! Randal could just feel his motorized insides writhing and twisting inside of him at the thought of his parental units seeing the dorm. He wished silently that he had a time transportation module in which he could never even hear the word college ever again. It had only been a couple of hours, but he was ready to pack his bags.

Meanwhile, Rhonda and Ronnie were approximately ten miles from the campus site, were discussing their child while driving towards the dorms. "Searching through my long term memory database, I have concluded that we indeed have dropped him on his head as a little robot." Ronnie stated in a monotone and static tinted tone. Unlike their son, emotions and feelings simply did not compute with these two strict super computer parents.

Rhonda nodded her head in agreement, and added, "Yes, or maybe it was the various biohazard cleaning chemicals that were very potent and dangerous to little robots, such as our son." They were so engaged in conversation about Randal that Ronnie, the driver, was not concentrated on the road. His wayward vehicle caused obliterated fire hydrants, close calls with old ladies crossing the streets, and explosions. Through all the mayhem and cross course smash fest, they did not lock their optical sensors on the road.

Drivers were honking their horns madly, trying to alert the robotic renegades. People crawled out of overturned vehicles, bruised, battered, and in shock. Helicopters swooped in to fly the injured to hospitals. The news covered the event. It was a tragedy, and everyone was devastated by the mass annihilation, except for Ronnie and Rhonda. Through suffering and pain, laughter and wackiness, anger and insanity, they were not moved, not even one bit. "I have no strong feelings about this either way." Ronnie said.

Back on campus, Randal was pacing back and forth in his dorm room, as he hadn't a clue of what to do. He was overwhelmed, and his thought processors were malfunctioning. After a few moments, he held his head in frustration, fell to his knees, and cried out in a tortured tone, "WHY ME???" he wept with self pity. His oily tears stained his magnesium cheeks, his alloy shoulders sagged, and his mechanical heart sank in his armored chest. During the emotional and dramatic breakdown, Wayne and Shane were enthralled in a fighting video game.

Not looking up from their battle, they offered comfort to their new buddy. Shane said, "Its ok dude, your parents should be pretty tight with you living here." He then chucked the game controller at the ground in frustration because Wayne crushed him in Mega Nuclear Ninja-Spider Kung-Fu Clash II. "How do you pull of that secret move, Wayne? It gets me every time!" demanded Shane angrily. Wayne just grinned and folded his hands behind his head, claming victory in triumphant silence.

Randal shot up to his feet like a Marines recruit in training camp. "During my darkest hour, my indicators sensed a way to eradicate all evidence, therefore these parties would have never existed! It is a most excellent time to be part cleaning robot, isn't it?" Randal said, as he scanned the dorm room, littered with crushed paper cups, streamers, crumbs of food, and a billy goat that was left from the aftermath of the fun day.

With all the rubble and debris, it would seem as though it would take weeks to rebuild and clean up the mess. Without one word, merely bloops and bleeps, Randal got to work. He fished inside his metal door compartment and placed a yellow construction helmet on his head. Now that he was dressed in the required clothing, he needed the tools. He found scraps of metal and bent them into wrenches and screwdrivers with ease. He pulled out a saw and a hammer from his metal door. He was ready.

Buzzing like a busy bee, he hammered nails, sawed through large planks of wood, and wrote up the blueprints while selecting a tasteful paint scheme. In mere moments he built a more modern looking house. The craftsmanship was remarkable and painstakingly precise. In fact, the architecture and technology was futuristic and far ahead of its time. The design of the house was sleek and efficient.

Next, Randal activated a switch inside of his large metal door that was on his torso, and the cleaning transformation was under way. Randal grew four arms; one was a mop, another was a broom, the third was a vacuum, and the final arm was a can of disinfectant spray. His legs merged into one, and from underneath them appeared a floor buffer. Attached to his rear was a trash can. This robot knew cleaning was serious business. One thing you don't ever do is mess with a cleaning robot.

Off he went, on a clean-up frenzy. He slid back and forth through the room at unbelievable speed and with such grace as to not break anything. Pictures and furniture glistened and shined. Dust bunnies were swept away and never seen again. Pizza boxes, bags of chips, various soda bottles and cans, and the rings that held them together that once littered the floor were properly recycled. Randal sprayed the entire room with disinfectant spray. He accomplished his tidying-up goal in 3.04 seconds.

Wayne and Shane gawked at the now marvelously spotless room. It resembled the living chamber of a patient with severe OCD. All shelves were aligned, clothes were thrown in the hamper and sorted into laundry loads, not one speck of dirt could be found on the floor. The room was perfect. The bros lightly sniffed the air as if it were an elegant flower. "Lilac." They said gently in unison, smiling from ear to ear.

Randal beamed at his greatest work. For once, he did not destroy and demolish anything, but he manifested a brilliant house and cleaned it with ease. Wayne and Shane applauded, still bewildered by the robot's talent. "We had no idea you were a partying/maid/computing/contractor/EVE RYTHING robot!" said Shane, amazed.

Wayne gulped and nodded his head, amazed. "I thought you were just a nerd! I've never been more wrong in my life!"

Blushing, Randal kicked at the ground, hands behind his back. "Aww, it was nothing you guys, really." Randal insisted. "I have many functions and practical every day uses. I just wanted to make everything right again."

Suddenly, his parents, Rhonda and Ronnie, barged into the room with furious looks on their faces. Randal gulped in fear. "HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THING!" Ronnie, red as a tomato, shot at Randal. "THIS IS THE MOST IRRESPONSIBLE THING YOU HAVE EVER DONE IN YOUR LIFE! I EXPECT BETTER FROM YOU, ROBOTIC SON UNIT!!"

Rhonda's ears puffed out more smoke from her nostrils than a smokestack at a large factory. "YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF!" she growled at him. "WE THOUGHT WE PROGRAMMED YOU BETTER." Randal fell to the floor and crawled backwards into the corner, afraid of what would happen next. He was whimpering like a chained up dog.

"You forgot your high tech undergarment units!" Rhonda said, as she held up his Star Wars tighty-whities in the air. Wayne and Shane giggled like school girls. "We ordered you to triple check your quarters, and you forgot these??? Well, that was all we wanted. Have fun at college Randal Wellington Raquenzelsentenforumbobersunlamensions essonisifunbo!

Ronnie patted his son on the shoulder. "Oh, and remember son." He said, "We love you very much. Don't let any of the bigger more built kids take your lunch money like back at public school, and especially don't let them convince you into dressing like a girl to avoid getting pummeled like last year. Farewell." They activated their rocket feet, and blasted out of the room.

"MOM! DAD! YOU RUINED MY SOCIAL LIFE BY DISPLAYING MY PERSONAL UNDERGARMENTS TO THE WHOLE DORMITORY!" Randal shouted in dismay. He then hid his face, as the entire student body laughed, chortled, and guffawed at his glow in the dark undies.

Whoa! What a crazy conclusion! Who knew that Randal wore underwear all this time? This proves once and for all that everyone, in fact, does poop. I hope you all learned this valuable lesson, and that you enjoyed the final (or maybe not so final) installment of Randal the Rock and Roll College Robot!!!

I'm writing a Twilight fan fiction that will bash emos and they will all die in the end, and I'll post that one in the near future, so stay tuned. It's sure to be epic.